


As Easy as Cheesecake

by imagine_that_haikyuu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, First Meetings, Humor, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24808459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagine_that_haikyuu/pseuds/imagine_that_haikyuu
Summary: If it hadn't been for Daichi opening that stubborn jar of peanut butter, you would have never finished making your cheesecake.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	As Easy as Cheesecake

**Author's Note:**

> This scenario was originally posted on June 12, 2018 to our [tumblr](https://imagine-that-haikyuu.tumblr.com/post/174818173328/daichi-with-neighbors-who-only-meet-because-i). Some edits have been made since then.
> 
> Writer: May
> 
> Anonymous asked: Daichi with 'neighbors who only meet because “i cannot get this stupid jar open, can you help?”' please????

You were never going to buy anything from this company again. It wasn’t that their product tasted bad, though. Then again, you didn’t even know if it tasted bad because you haven’t really eaten any of it at this point. But there were a lot of people with the same peanut butter jar in their baskets at the grocery, so you assumed it was at least delicious. **  
**

But, no. You weren’t going to buy from them again not because the peanut butter was horrible. But because you couldn’t get to opening the thing in the first place.

See, you prided yourself on being a handy person, able to go from cooking to sewing to piecing together an Ikea cabinet in one try. It was the first thing out of your mouth when introducing yourself—“Hello, everyone. My name is (Y/N) and I can build an Ikea cabinet.” It would always have everyone laughing and made for a good conversation starter.

The people who knew you really well would say that you knew so many tips and tricks to so many things—like how to get wine stains out of white shirts without all the unnecessary scrubbing, or how to properly clean your tools, and (most famously) how to open a stubborn jar without breaking your wrist.

Never have your tips on the jar opening thing failed anyone before. If one trick didn’t work, then you’d have two or three more to suggest, and your friends’ jars always opened. It was proven that wearing a rubber glove while opening the jar had the highest success rate, so you tried it when the lid refused to budge.

You sighed, setting the jar on the counter and swiftly pulling the rubber glove off your hand.

Damn it, that trick always worked. What manufacturer decided to seal the jar so tightly that it was nearly impossible to open?

You weighed your options, which were none, come to think of it. Your jar opener was broken and you hadn’t had time yet to look for another one. The heating for the tap was broken as well, so you couldn’t run it under. And to top it off, the crust had almost finished baking, so you had to act fast.

Desperate, you took the jar and hurried outside to the hallway, the small voice that nagged at you for inconveniencing another person screaming at the back of your mind as you knocked on the door in front of yours.

The door swung open a few seconds later, revealing a tall(really buff, really cute) guy, with a confused, but curious expression on his face.

“Uh, hi?” he said, uncertain.

“Hi,” you said. “So I’m making this cheesecake, right? The crust is almost done baking, and I’ve finished the filling, but I can’t get this stupid jar open—can you please help?” you rushed out, holding the stubborn peanut butter jar out to him. He had muscly looking arms. He could probably get it open, right?

He wordlessly took the jar, still looking confused, but not so much that he asked any questions. Gripping tightly, he easily twisted it, popping the seal and opening the damned thing.

“Thank god,” you said, hurriedly taking the peanut butter from his hands and stepping backwards into your apartment. “Thank you so much, whoever you are—I owe you a slice for saving my cheesecake!”

“No problem, I guess?” he said, leaning against his doorframe with an amused smile on his face. “And you don’t have to, really. I just opened the jar.”

“Yeah,” you answered, “and that’s a big deal for me, so you’re still getting a slice.” You smiled gratefully at him. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” And with that, you closed the door, leaving no more room for argument.

You turned to your little kitchen. “All right, cheesecake. Let’s finish you up.”

* * *

A knock on the door popped Daichi’s bubble of concentration, and he gratefully slid out of the dining chair and rolled his shoulders on the way to the door. He would take anything to get away from Calculus, even for only a few minutes.

He was greeted by you again, standing excitedly, one hand holding a plate with a big slice of cake on it—probably the cheesecake you said you were making earlier.

“One slice of cheesecake, as promised,” you said, grandly presenting the plated dessert to him.

Daichi chuckled. “Thank you. Again, you really didn’t have to give me one,” he said shyly.

“And again, I owed you one,” you said, smiling gratefully at him again. “Now my debt is paid and I get a review of my first peanut butter cheesecake. Win-win!”

“Ah, oh no, I’m not very good with reviews,” Daichi said, taking the plate from your waiting hand.

“Nonsense—you just have to say if it’s good or not. Nothing to stress over.” You beamed up at him, obviously excited.

“Okay,” he said after a few moments. He pushed his apartment door further open. “Come in?”

Your already big smile widened even further. Daichi felt his heart skip a beat, and he turned away to lead you to the breakfast bar. As Daichi rummaged in his drawers for a fork, you busied yourself with looking around the space from your perch at the bar.

“So,” Daichi said after finding a fork and settling himself beside you, “cheesecake.”

You nodded, a tiny smile blooming on your face. “Yep. First time I’ve made this one.”

Daichi snapped his head your way. “What, really? So I’m technically your first customer?” If Daichi wasn’t nervous enough letting a pretty stranger into his home, then he was really panicking now.

Giggling, you nodded your head. “You are, so hurry up and take a bite!”

The boy didn’t doubt that the cheesecake would be good—the crust was even and baked golden, the filling holding up, with decorative swirls of what he figured would be the peanut butter on top. The fork went through easily, and Daichi scooped up the piece.

Your eagerness was palpable as you watched him eat. Big worried eyes melted into excitement as his face scrunched up in delight and he let out a groan.

“This is really good,” he said, getting another piece and shoving that one in quick, making you laugh.

“Experiment success!” you exclaimed, clasping your hands together. “I’m glad you like it.” You stood up and excitedly made your way to the front door. “On that note, I have a drink that I think goes well with the cheesecake, and I’d love for you to try it. Hold on, let me get it right now,” you said, not waiting for him to comment before going straight for the door.

“Ah, wait—uh—,” Daichi called, stopping short when he realized he didn’t know your name.

You stopped, already having flung the door open. “Oh yeah, I haven’t really introduced myself, haven’t I?” An embarrassed giggle escaped your mouth. “Sorry, I forget my manners when I’m excited. My name’s (Y/N).”

“Daichi,” he said, smiling at how unintentionally cute you were being.

You aimed another bright smile at him, and Daichi swore he kind of died a little bit. “Okay, Daichi. You just sit tight, ‘kay?”

He nodded as you slipped out the door. Daichi turned back to the cheesecake, part of him not wanting to finish it so you could stay longer, and wondering what would happen if he asked you to stay when he did finish it.

Just then, you slipped through the open door, carrying a small tray laden with another slice of cake, and two steaming teacups.

Seemed like Daichi didn’t have to worry about getting her to stay a little longer, after all.


End file.
